Chongjue returned from Kunlun Mountain, and Su Xuanlin had already tidied up the aftermath of the Heaven-Reaching Tower, so there was no need for further effort.
Only for Zou Chi’s sake, Chongjue buried a dragon scale Zou Chi had given him long ago at the site where the phoenix bone was buried, built a small mound, and sat by the grave with a jar of wine for a long time before leaving.
The past could not be reclaimed; he only wished his old friend peace in the next life, free from the pain of separation.
Since the sect leader’s return, Yingxu Sect had been lively every day.
The major sects, who had looked down on Yingxu Sect for years after the Immortal Lord’s death, now flocked back like moths, eager to curry favor.
Su Xuanlin, with nothing better to do, took Xiaoxiao to greet them all.
The Immortal Lord, looking every bit the immortal, smiled as he held his son’s hand. “Xiaoxiao, do you remember this Uncle?”
Xiaoxiao shook his head. “No.”
The elder of the sect, embarrassed by the young master’s lack of courtesy, forced a smile.
Xiaoxiao didn’t even recognize his Dao partner, let alone strangers. Su Xuanlin, deliberately provoking, lazily waved his fan. “Well, after I died sixteen years ago, he never came to visit. Of course my Xiaoxiao has no reason to know him.”
Xie Zhizhi coughed heavily, signaling he’d gone far enough.
Su Xuanlin’s amusement lay in this, but seeing Xie Zhizhi about to burst, he reluctantly dropped his act, watching the others leave with awkward faces.
Sixteen years had passed, and those old men on high thrones had nearly forgotten one fact.
Even if Su Xuanlin was called “Immortal Lord,” he wasn’t immortal.
He was just a reckless rascal.
The rascal, legs crossed, listened to Xie Zhizhi’s scolding, sipping tea vaguely. “What’s wrong with teasing a few sycophants?”
Xie Zhizhi slammed the table in anger. “Su Xuanlin!”
Su Xuanlin set down his cup with a bang, tea splashing, and coldly stared at Xie Zhizhi. “Isn’t me admitting fault enough?”
He’d never seen someone apologize with such force.
As they argued, Chongjue arrived from outside, radiating coldness, holding a freshly made sugar figurine.
Since Xiaoxiao had become addled, he’d been quiet and obedient, sitting for hours without a word unless spoken to.
Chongjue nodded briefly to Su Xuanlin and walked to Xiaoxiao, tentatively offering the sugar figurine.
Xiaoxiao looked up at him, puzzled.
Chongjue’s eyes softened, his voice unconsciously gentle. “Don’t you like sweets?”
Yesterday, when Su Xuanlin gave it to him, he’d been so happy.
Xiaoxiao didn’t reach for it, instead turning to Su Xuanlin. “Father, can I eat it?”
Su Xuanlin, legs crossed, glanced at Chongjue.
Chongjue gave him a long, silent look.
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Now, with Xiaoxiao’s memory gone, his gaze was no different from how he looked at the other “uncles.” For the first time, Chongjue felt a wave of bitter, uncomfortable emotion wash over him.
Xiaoxiao had been gnawing on the sugar figurine for a while, and when he saw this “uncle” still standing there, staring down at him, he looked up, puzzled.
Chongjue forced a smile, bending down as if to coax a child.
“There’s a market at the foot of the mountain. Would you like to go out and play?”
The faint scent of bodhi flowers drifted by, and Xiaoxiao instinctively leaned back into the chair, shaking his head without a second thought.
Chongjue hit a wall, but patiently coaxed him a few more times, promising to buy him a rattle.
Xiaoxiao, unmoved, shook his head like a rattle.
Su Xuanlin, rarely seeing Chongjue so flustered, laughed from the side.
Chongjue vaguely realized Xiaoxiao must have imprinted on Su Xuanlin, the first person to treat him kindly—though, of course, he really was his father. To get Xiaoxiao to warm up to him, he’d have to start with Su Xuanlin.
Chongjue immediately pulled Su Xuanlin aside to discuss it.
The two talked and gestured, and Su Xuanlin finally held up three fingers.
Chongjue nodded in agreement.
Su Xuanlin returned, leisurely telling Xiaoxiao, “Xiaoxiao, do you want to go down to the market?”
This time, Xiaoxiao nodded without hesitation, dropping his sugar figurine and standing up. “Yes, let’s go play.”
Su Xuanlin pointed at Chongjue. “Then you go play with your uncle.”
Xiaoxiao paused, the remaining half of his sugar figurine dropping from his hand. He stared, stunned, at Su Xuanlin, then at Chongjue, as if he’d just been sold.
A moment later, Chongjue still managed to take Xiaoxiao down the mountain.
Xiaoxiao showed his first sign of displeasure, letting Chongjue hold his hand as they walked down, not resisting, but glaring fiercely at the hand, as if he wanted to bite it.
Chongjue, even without looking, could feel Xiaoxiao’s hostile gaze.
He found it strangely amusing, glancing sideways.
Xiaoxiao quickly looked away, sulking with his head down.
Chongjue, pretending ignorance, asked, “Don’t want to come out with me?”
Xiaoxiao, not yet able to lie, nodded. “Yes.”
Chongjue suppressed a smile. “Then why did you agree?”
“Father told me to,” Xiaoxiao said, looking miserable. “I listen to Father.”
Chongjue: “Do you hate me?”
Xiaoxiao paused, looking up at him, confused. After a long moment, he said, “No, I don’t.”
Chongjue laughed, his voice growing gentler. “Then why are you so unhappy to be out with me?”
Since losing his memory, Xiaoxiao had always followed his instincts, never thinking about such things. Chongjue’s simple question nearly stumped him, his brow furrowing as he struggled to figure out why he was unhappy.
Uncle gave him a sugar figurine and took him out to play. Why was he so reluctant?
He couldn’t figure it out.
Chongjue, seeing he’d made his point, smiled warmly. “What would you like to do today?”
Xiaoxiao, brought back to attention, hesitated, looking around, then shook his head. “I don’t like crowds.”
Xiaoxiao didn’t like crowds?
But then again, Xiaoxiao had always loved crowds because he’d spent his childhood in Hanmang garden with few playmates. When he finally got to go out, he naturally sought out the busiest places.
But now, Xiaoxiao, starting from a state of blank ignorance, had always had people around him—father, senior brothers, elders, and other disciples from Yingxu Sect, all eager to shower him with attention. He didn’t lack love, so he naturally didn’t crave the excitement of crowds.
Chongjue’s heart softened instantly. “Where would you like to go? I’ll take you.”
Xiaoxiao was about to say he wanted to go home, but after a moment’s thought, he tentatively said, “I… want to see snow.”
Chongjue raised an eyebrow. “Snow?”
“Yes,” Xiaoxiao’s eyes lit up. “Can we?”
Chongjue, though he didn’t understand why Xiaoxiao wanted to see snow, nodded and held out his hand. “I’ll take you.”
Xiaoxiao, never having been so close to a strange uncle before, fidgeted awkwardly, then cautiously reached out his hand.
Chongjue’s palm was always gentle and unassuming, never imposing. Xiaoxiao’s reactions were purely instinctive, sensing no threat, so his body gradually relaxed.
But the moment his hand touched the man’s broad palm, Chongjue’s eyes flickered, and his fingers, which had been loosely open, suddenly clenched, gripping Xiaoxiao’s hand tightly.
The gentle aura around him instantly turned aggressive.
Xiaoxiao was startled, instinctively trying to pull away.
Chongjue, using all his strength, yanked the boy’s hand, pulling him off balance.
The slender body stumbled, crashing into the man’s arms.
The scent of the bodhi flower enveloped him, a fragrance that was gentle and pure, yet to Xiaoxiao, it felt dangerous, as if it were seeping straight into his bones.
Xiaoxiao was utterly terrified, his mind going blank in an instant.
His body tensed, feeling the strange man pull him into his arms, a warm hand gently stroking down his back, finally resting at the small of his waist…
“I’m going to be eaten,” Xiaoxiao thought, too frightened to move. “He’s going to eat me!”
His instincts interpreted the oppressive feeling as the fear of being caught by a hunter, and Xiaoxiao nearly burst into tears.
Just then, the man drew him close, and suddenly, it felt as if his feet were floating.
The world spun, accompanied by a strange, clear scent, and a chill swept over him.
Chongjue released him, and a smiling voice came from above.
Xiaoxiao didn’t dare open his eyes, trembling as he thought, “Here? The gates of hell? Father, save me!”
Chongjue, feeling the boy’s tense body, kindly let him go and stepped back a few paces, speaking gently. “Don’t be afraid.”
Xiaoxiao’s ears twitched.
That “don’t be afraid” sounded strangely familiar, as if someone had whispered it to him countless times before.
Not feeling any pain, Xiaoxiao cautiously opened one eye, and saw nothing but a sea of white.
At the peak of Mount Sumeru, snow fell endlessly.
Chongjue stood in the snow, looking down at him, his eyes filled with emotions Xiaoxiao couldn’t understand.
It took Xiaoxiao a moment to realize the man wasn’t going to eat him, but had brought him to see the snow. His heart calmed, and he shyly pursed his lips, glancing at Chongjue.
Chongjue was still smiling, seemingly unaware of his earlier fear.
Xiaoxiao quietly let out a breath and quickly lost himself in the snow.
Chongjue, appearing calm, also silently relaxed.
It seemed winning someone’s affection was truly hard work.
He wondered how Xiaoxiao had managed to endure his constant rejections before.
Thinking this, Chongjue’s heart ached.
Xiaoxiao played happily, only reluctantly leaving with Chongjue’s hand as the sun set.
Chongjue knew when to stop, and how to cast his net. After winning Xiaoxiao’s happiness, he didn’t push further, but said meaningfully, “If your father won’t take you somewhere, just tell me. I’ll take you anywhere.”
Xiaoxiao, not catching the hint about his father, happily nodded. “Thank you, Uncle!”
Chongjue, satisfied, watched him return to Hanmang garden.
Xiaoxiao walked a few steps, then suddenly turned, saying seriously, “Uncle, I’ll always treat you as well as I treat my father!”
Chongjue: “…………”
Chongjue’s smile was instantly shattered by that word “treat.”